


Mission Impossible

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Series: Two for One: A Stucky x Reader Polyamorous Series [8]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Blood, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 03:53:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14741516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: When one of the super soldiers is seriously injured, your world is nearly shattered to pieces.





	Mission Impossible

“Get him on board.”

“Y/N, do not move. You keep pressure on that goddamn wound.”

“Get this jet in the air, we need to get him back to the Tower. Nat, get Dr. Cho on the line, I need her expertise on this.”

Your ears were ringing, your vision fuzzy around the edges, and you were gulping in giant lungfuls of air. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. Your arms were shaking; you weren’t sure how much longer you could do this.

“Sam, get the med kit. I need a needle and thread, gauze, disinfectant, fuck I need everything. Just grab it all and bring it.”

“Clint, get this fucking jet in the air. Now!”

Wanda put a hand on your shoulder, her eyes glowing red. “Breathe, Y/N,” she murmured. “It’s okay, just breathe.”

You nodded, tears streaming down your face, a choked sob leaving you. It couldn’t end, not like this, not this way. You glanced around, your eyes settling on the other super soldier, on the other man you loved. His fists were clenched at his sides, his brow furrowed, a single tear sliding down his cheek. He was staring at the man on the table, at his friend, his lover, riddled with bullets, blood from his femoral artery pouring from his leg, dripping on the floor, covering your hands. His other wounds were oozing and his breathing was shallow and wrong, a sucking sound coming from him. His lung, it must have been his lung.

“Tony,” you gasped.

“I know, Y/N, I know,” Tony muttered through gritted teeth. “I want you to let me in there now. You’ve done great, but I need to work.”

It was like Stark’s words were coming from far away, not registering. You wanted to move, but your body wouldn’t let you. If you moved, he died.

“Y/N?” Tony prompted.

“I-I can’t,” you sobbed. “I can’t, he’ll die.”

Nat put an earpiece on Tony and he nodded at Wanda. “Get her down. I need to do this now. Dr. Cho, you’re on.”

Wanda wrapped an arm around your waist and dragged you to the floor. You dropped to your knees, sobs tearing out of you, your entire body shaking. You could only stare at your blood-soaked hands, your heart screaming in pain.

A large body fell to the floor beside you, his arms sliding around you, hugging you to his chest, his lips pressed against your head. Your grief was his grief, your worry was his worry, your pain was his as well. You collapsed against him, your face buried against the side of his neck, his tears mingling with yours while your friends, the other Avengers, fought to save the life of the man you both loved.

********************

_Four Days Later_

You heard them before you saw them. When you’d started down the hallway to Bucky’s room, you’d expected to find him sprawled across the bed, sleeping, like you’d ordered him to do before you’d left this morning. Instead, as you’d rounded the corner, you’d heard two booming voices shouting at each other, loud enough for everyone in the compound to hear them.

Bucky was standing beside the bed, fists clenched, anger rolling off of him in waves, while Steve stood across from him, equally as angry. They were shouting at each other, so loud it made your head hurt. It took you a second to make sense of the words, to comprehend exactly what they were shouting about.

“Dammit Bucky, you aren’t listening to me,” Steve shouted. “You can’t take chances like that, you just can’t. You could have died!”

“I’m not gonna fucking die,” Bucky scoffed. “I’m a super soldier, fucking loaded with super serum. I’ll heal, Steve.”

“Just because you’re a super soldier doesn’t mean you can’t bleed out, you asshole,” Steve snapped. “Your fucking femoral artery was hit, you had a collapsed lung, and a shit ton of other bullet holes. What was it? Fifteen, twenty? All because you had to jump in front of me. You pull stupid shit like that all the time.”

“Stupid shit like trying to save your ass?” Bucky growled.

“I don’t want my ass saved if it means losing you,” Steve screamed. “When are going to fucking figure that out?” He stormed past you and yanked open the door, leaving it hanging it by one hinge.

A loud crash came from behind you. The lamp on the bedside table was broken in pieces on the floor at Bucky’s feet.

“Bucky,” you murmured, inching closer to him.

“What?” he growled.

“Do you want to -”

“I want to be left the fuck alone, Y/N. I’m tired of everybody hovering over me, treating me like I’m fucking breakable. Give me some fucking space.” He turned his back on you, crossed the room to the bathroom, and slammed the door in your face.

You left, stepping through the broken door and leaning against the wall outside. You rested your head against the wall and stared at the ceiling, tears sliding down your cheeks. What the hell had just happened? A hurricane of emotion had descended on Steve and Bucky, sucking you in with them, and now the three of you were trapped in a mess that you just wanted to fix. You swiped at the tears on your face and swallowed the sob threatening to burst out of you.

You’d never heard the boys fight like that, not once in the time you’d been dating them, shit not even before that. Sure, they had the occasional argument, nothing serious, bitching about who’d used the last of the soap, or who drank the last beer, or some stupid shit like that. But nothing like what you’d just heard. It made your heart literally ache to hear them at odds with each other like that, to know that there were closed doors between them, separating them, keeping them apart. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, it just wasn’t.

************

After two days, Bucky and Steve still weren’t talking, in fact, they’d barely ventured out of their rooms, avoiding each other at all costs. The handful of times they’d ended up in the same room, the tension was so thick, so overwhelming, that it made everyone uncomfortable, the room emptying almost immediately. Everybody was feeling the effects of the fight between the boys, but nobody more so than you.

You were barely sleeping, barely eating, keeping to yourself as much as possible, desperate to figure out how to make everything better. A seemingly impossible task, given that the super soldiers were two of the most stubborn men on the planet.

You didn’t have much of a chance to feel sorry for yourself or spend anymore time trying to figure out how to bring the two men back together, because duty called. A group of terrorists had taken a building full of people hostage in downtown New York and the Avengers had been sent in.

You were in the parking garage with Clint and Wanda, Nat and Steve were on the roof, and Sam and Bucky were monitoring the street level entrances. Tensions were running high, not just from the situation, but from the rocky ground the team was on.

“Steve and I are going to move in,” Nat said, her voice filling your head. “Buck, you and Sam come through the open entrance, and Clint, you, Wanda, and Y/N move up from the garage. We’ll converge on the terrorists and take them out.”

You drew your gun and followed Clint up the stairs, Wanda on your six. You rubbed a hand across your face, fighting the exhaustion threatening to take you over. The first gunshot sent a shot of adrenaline rushing through you, propelling you forward and out the door, right into the middle of battle.

The wall above your head exploded, wood and concrete raining down on you and Wanda. You dived to your right, behind a low counter, firing your weapon in the direction the shots had come from. Nat and Steve were yelling instructions in your ear, ordering you to find the hostages and get them out.

You stayed low, circling the room, eyes open for any sign of the hostages. The rest of the team had the terrorists contained, trapped in a large conference room connected to a hallway that circled the building. You slipped through the door and sprinted down it, checking doors as you moved. The intel you had said the hostages were being held in a separate location, approximately a hundred yards from the terrorists. You moved quickly, sliding to halt outside a door labeled _Gym_ , and pressing your ear to it. You slipped the small round disc from your pocket and rested it on the door, flipping the switch on the side. Tony’s latest tech whirred into action, opening a small, round peephole into the room. You tapped the comm in your ear.

“I count maybe twenty hostages,” you whispered, “and two terrorists. I’m going in.”

“Y/N, wait,” Steve and Bucky said almost simultaneously.

You ignored them, your hand closing around the doorknob, turning it quietly, and easing it open. You dragged in a deep breath, dropped to your knees, and rolled into the room, gun raised. Two shots to the man by the window, dropping him immediately, then another shot to your left, taking out the second terrorist. You rose to your feet just as Clint stepped in. He quietly ushered the hostages from the room, guiding them out and down the hallway to the right.

You waited until the last of the hostages was out of the room before turning to follow. The first bullet grazed your side, startling you, spinning you around, dropping you to one knee. You raised your gun, but at first you weren’t sure where the shot had come from, which direction. You hesitated long enough that the second shot buried itself deep in your left shoulder, knocking you backwards on your ass, your head hitting the doorframe behind you, so hard your vision immediately blurred, and a sense of nausea settled in the pit of your stomach.

“Shit,” you muttered, weakly. “Shooter, we’ve got a shooter in the room.”

Wanda appeared at your side, her eyes glowing, her hands red like fire. She raised them, red energy exploding out of them, hitting the man holding the gun in the center of the chest, throwing him backwards and out the window.

“Nat, we need an evac now!”

* * *

Dr. Cho had given you a mild sedative after she’d taken care of your shoulder and the wound on the back of your head, a wound you hadn’t even realized was bleeding until she’d told you. You’d dozed in and out, ordered to stay in the infirmary for at least twenty-four hours. You hadn’t argued; you needed the rest.

You felt their presence before you even opened your eyes. You always knew when they were there, always. You opened your eyes a little and peered through your lashes, just enough to see Steve and Bucky sitting in hard plastic chairs next to your bed.

Their heads were close together, knees touching, pinkies linked. Steve was whispering furiously, though you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Bucky was nodding, brow furrowed, mumbling what sounded like ‘I know’ repeatedly.

“You two finally make up?” you mumbled. No one could understand how much you wanted that to be true.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Steve grinned.

He and Bucky rose to their feet, moving in that scarily simultaneous way they had, Steve circling around the end of the bed to stand opposite Bucky. They each took one of your hands, squeezing gently. Bucky leaned over and pressed a hard kiss to your lips.

“You scared the shit out of us,” he growled.

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re alive, so you’re forgiven,” Steve chuckled, kissing the top of your head. “But I’m ordering you to sit out the next couple of missions. We’ve had our fill of you in danger.”

You glared at the two super soldiers, irritated that Steve would give you such an order, but the pain in your shoulder stopped you from all out yelling at him. You’d sit out for a couple of missions, if only to make the men in your life happy and let the wound in your shoulder heal. Once you were healthy, it was back to work.

“Yes, sir,” you sighed. “Now answer my question. Did you two make up?”

Steve sat on the edge of your bed while Bucky stretched out beside you, gently pulling you into his arms. He buried his nose against the side of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “We made up. It was a stupid argument.”

“It’s always a stupid argument,” Steve grunted.

“That you started -” Bucky snapped.

“Hey, hey, cool it,” you interrupted. “No fighting.”

“Yes ma’am,” they agreed in unison.


End file.
